Somewhere
The cave was dark, but not dank. He had to admit he was a little surprised. Long ago, when he’d had the occasion to visit some of the diamond dog burrows, he’d found them to be repulsive places, foul holes in the ground. Little better than hovels, filled with foolish creatures content to wallow in their own filth as long as they possessed a steady supply of baubles. But these caverns were different. Ordered. Clean. Well-maintained.
Perhaps the diamond dogs then too had evolved along with the outside world, even though it seemed unlikely. But the proof was there beneath his feet. Roughly-hewn but clean tunnels. Disciplined and stalwart groups of dogs, moving up and down the caves periodically in organized packs, leaders barking orders at them as they carried out important tasks. Even the armor his two escorts were clad in was far beyond what he’d expected to find. In fact, it was almost impressive, if a little crude. But even he could see that the spikes, the razor sharp edges … all of them were placed in positions where they would be useful, rather than detrimental. Someone had done good work.
Perfect, he thought as he continued down the corridor. Exactly what I need.
A lance of pain shot through his side, and he had to fight not to let it show on his face. His body was still working to fix most of the damage he’d suffered during the fall of the Necropolis. Had he been an ordinary being and not an immortal, the beating he’d taken surely would have killed him. As it was, he had come close. Too close for his own liking. The world had apparently changed more than he’d realized while he’d been away.
But that was fine. He could adapt. He always had. Mortals had moved up in the world. But so could he. All he needed was time … and a plan.
And he had both already. Once again, the world thought him dead. And to be fair, he almost had been. He’d spent almost a full day sleeping off his injuries once he’d made it to shore, and he’d spent another week foraging for food as his body fought to rebuild itself. Almost dying had been unexpected.
But not unplanned for. Always have a backup, he told himself as his guides reached an intersection, turning without hesitation and moving in a new direction. Always be ready to make a step back.
He was doing that now. The diamond dog he’d spoken to at the dig had been hesitant to tell him what he’d wanted to hear, but once he’d told her what he’d already put together from the reports, and applied a little of his own pressure … she’d caved and given him what he’d needed. A location.
Another lance of pain shot through his side, and he glanced down at the half-healed wounds on his body. Part of him wanted to wait, to let the rest of his injuries heal, but he’d waited too long already. If he waited much longer, the moment could be lost. Besides, he had part of his staff still, pulled from his body after he’d made it to the shore. The crystalline fear-runes he’d built into it still worked, as did the blade. He had what he needed.
It wasn’t often that a diamond dog acquired military aspirations as this current leader had, but when they did, there was always an opening for those with bigger plans in mind. Diamond dogs followed the strongest—the biggest, the richest, the meanest, whoever could defend their horde from others. If someone was tough enough, they could challenge the leader of a tribe and take control. And, if they were tough enough past that, maybe another tribe too.
This one currently had at least twenty-one tribes already under his control. Anubis couldn’t ever recall hearing of such a mass of diamond dogs gathering together before—and more appeared to be coming in every day as word went out.
Not only that, he thought as they passed by a large, painted sigil on the wall, with text in the diamond dog tongue written beneath it. But he’s actually controlling them quite well, too. No infighting, lots of order. A far cry from the barely civilized mongrels he’d known two thousand years ago.
They passed by another painted sigil, again with the same text. He’d asked one of his guides earlier what it had meant. It was their name, they had told him. “The Golden Horde.”
Interesting.
He could hear a distant whisper now, a rumble of voices and shouts as they neared the arena. They’d assembled as many as they could to watch him fight their leader. Perfect.
It was a good plan. Find the diamond dogs, challenge their leader for command, beat him, and take control. Simple, but then again, so were diamond dogs.
Simple, but industrious. And he’d need that for what would come next. He wasn’t quite sure what that was going to be, but he knew that whatever it was, the power crystal that had fallen with the Necropolis would have to be at the heart of it. Almost two thousand years' worth of magical power, all wrapped up in that single stone.
If he had that, he could do a lot of things.
Their path angled downwards, and they passed through a doorway before moving into another, smaller hallway. Even then, he didn’t have to duck his head. Whoever had made the tunnels had been planning ahead.
There was a set of stone doors ahead of him, and he could hear the rumble of the crowd past them. His two guides took up flanking positions on either side of the door, their long arms at their sides. One motioned to him, jerking his head for the immortal to enter.
Still not much on ceremony, Anubis thought as he stepped forward and pushed the door open. They’ll be time for that later. He would relish the looks on their thick faces when he was in charge.
The arena was massive—much larger than he’d expected—the ceiling stretching up into darkness above him. Massive spotlights had been set up around the edges of the arean, bathing the entire area in a white glow. He took a step forward, his foot barely sinking into the grey sand. Classic.
It was hard to make out the stands from where he was since they were dark, but his eyes adjusted and then widened as he took in the number of diamond dogs looking down at him.
Horde is right, he thought, smiling. There must be forty or fifty thousand of them in here. And all of them, he noticed, were wearing armor.
Impressive. He looked to the other side if the arena, where a pair of stone doors identical to his own stood waiting, and then lifted what was left of his staff into the air. Let them know I am ready, he thought. By blade or fear, the diamond dog leader would fall.
There was a grinding sound as the doors behind him slid shut, and the rumble of the crowd increased.
Then it stopped, silence falling like a fog at some unseen signal. Then, on the far side of the arena, the doors began to grind open. A rumble shook the ground as the diamond dogs, as one, began to stomp their feet.
Very impressive, he thought as the far doors slid open, a pair of diamond dogs in gold-leaf armor stepping through. The stomp of the crowd picked up speed, coming faster and faster and faster, shaking the earth like some all-encompassing heartbeat.
Then the leader stepped out, and Anubis nodded as the crowd roared, the sound sweeping back and forth across the arena like a wave. The diamond dog was certainly an impressive figure, even at a distance. He looked to be at least several heads taller than his escort, though Anubis was familiar enough with visual trickery to recognize that the newcomer’s guards were shorter in order to make their leader all the more imposing. The crystalline armor he was wearing was unusual, and probably not that effective, but the dark, almost smokey shade added to his appearance, making him even more eye-catching. It had even been designed to make his squat, bulky figure look even more muscular than it probably was.
The crowd roared again, cheering madly, and the figure looked up at them, regarding them for a moment before bringing his gaze down to stare at Anubis.
Yes, Anubis thought, smiling. Face me.
The figure took a step back, raising one crystal-armored hand into the air, and Anubis could see spiked edges around the outside. He’d have to be careful and not let himself be careless. A single bad hit from one of them could make him bleed, and that wouldn’t do.
The dogs needed to see him as more than a mortal. More than what their leader was. Or had been.
The figure closed his fist, and the crowd went silent. Then, with agonizing slowness, he lowered his closed fist and extended a single finger at Anubis. The crowd began to stomp again, and the figure lowered his arm and began to stride forward.
I guess that’s it, he thought, hefting his broken staff and walking forward. No ceremony. Just violence. Good. It would make it all the more stunning when he crushed their leader in front of them.
He frowned. Something was wrong. The diamond dog was getting closer, but he wasn’t getting any smaller.
It wasn’t an illusion after all, he thought. He really is that big. In fact, he realized, the diamond dog was big enough that even he was going to look up at him.
No matter, he thought as they neared the middle of the arena. He could see the dog’s face now, jaws bared in a silent snarl. His face looked almost mashed-in, like something had pressed up against it and forced it back. It gave the figure an almost perpetually angry look.
Wonderful, Anubis thought as he eyed the dog’s thick muscles. A brute. Big, ugly, and angry. He lifted his staff. The dog was close enough now, the crowds stamping mixing with a sort of chant, a single word repeated slowly with each stomp. Time to fall.
Grey mist exploded out of the end of his staff, sweeping across the arena and around the massive figure. It paused, stilling for a moment as the mists rolled over it. Anubis smiled.
Then the dog did something unexpected. He lifted one hand in front of his face, sweeping the mists back and forth, his eyes watching as the grey mist faded. Then he smiled and stepped forward once more.
Anubis let the spell loose once more, more magic flowing down his arm and into his staff, through the crystalline lines he’d etched in the metal, following complex patterns he’d spent a decade deciphering, and then burst forth as a grey mist that rolled over the hulking diamond dog.
There, he thought as the figure stopped. Feel it! But there was already a cold chill of uncertainty in his gut, and as the figure stepped forward once more, he realized that something was very, very wrong.
“You wield fear.” The diamond dog’s voice was a hissing rumble, like two rocks grinding against one another as water flowed over them, almost a rasp but at the same time deep. “But it will not help you here.” The diamond dog was still moving forward, still moving with the same, impassive walk.
It’s got to be the armor, Anubis thought as he took a step back, dropping into a fighting stance. The crystal … it’s blocking the effect somehow. Seriously, is everything I have outdated now?
The dog was still coming. “You use it like a club,” he said. “You don’t understand it.”
He lunged forward, far faster than Anubis expected as the crowd roared, the chanting rising to new pitches. He jumped back as the dog’s fist slammed into the ground, and he could see sand kicking up around the impact under the force of the blow. Even worse, he could feel the ground shaking beneath his feet.
It was time to change tactics.
With a snap his scythe blade came into existence, and he backed away, dropping into a lower stance as the diamond dog moved for him again. All right, he thought. He’s fast, but he’s a bruiser. The fear doesn’t work on him, so you’ll cut his throat. Get in close, catch him off-guard. He’s not even in a ready stance, so as long as you strike when he’s off balance, it’s over. And then you can figure out how he didn’t collapse in a panic.
He waited, trying to ignore the chanting of the crowd. He needed to beat their leader. That would get them to shut up.
There! He lunged forward, ignoring the pain in his side as he brought his blade around in a tight, close arc, aiming upward at the dog’s throat.
Everything went wrong.
The dog’s arm snapped up, far faster than it had any right to be, fingers closing around Anubis’s arm and stopping it cold. Anubis shrieked as the dog’s muscles flexed, shattering the bones in his wrist and grinding them into one another. The staff fell from his fingers, slapping against the sand.
The dog twisted his arm, and Anubis dropped to his knees, feeling his hardened bone crack under the grip. His mind was screaming at him that it wasn’t possible, that no one, especially a diamond dog, could be so strong. His eyes slid to the arm, and it was then that he realized what he’d missed.
There was a resonance about the armor. Magic. Improperly balanced magic.
A hand wrapped around his throat, and he gasped as it lifted him into the air, bringing to eye level with the monstrous dog. He tried to strike back, but the dog’s hand twitched, and he clutched at his throat with both hands, gurgling as the beast’s grip tightened. The crowd began to chant louder.
“An immortal,” the diamond dog said, and its lips pulled back in a smile. “Fate has brought you to me, demigod.” he shifted, dropping to one knee as his free hand reached for something, and then he lifted Anubis’s broken staff into the air.
“An interesting toy,” he said, staring at it for a moment before letting it drop out of sight. “I’m sure my pet unicorn will find some use for it. As she will for you and your knowledge.”
“You—” Anubis said, fighting to get the word out. “You weren’t—”
“Scared?” the diamond dog finished. His grip tightening, and Anubis tried in vain to pull back the fingers. “No. You see, demigod, I know fear. And it has taught me the truth of everything this world is, and what this world will be.” The crowd was chanting louder, their voices shaking the very room as the diamond dog’s grip tightened even further. He was fighting for air now, straining to breathe, but nothing seemed to break the dog’s grip. He pounded against the monster’s arm, tearing his skin on the jagged armor, but he could feel his blows getting weaker.
“A world of fear,” the diamond dog said again as Anubis’s vision began to swim. The edges of the world were closing in around him now, everything narrowing as he fought for breath. “A world without the unneeded. Without you.” The dog’s hand tightened again, but it didn’t matter. Everything was blurring away fading. But Anubis still heard the dog’s last words. “A world without immortals.”
And behind him, their voices echoing across the arena and through his mind as everything faded away, came the chant of the crowd, a single word rolling over and over again.
“Kaan! Kaan! Kaan!”
END OF THE DUSK GUARD SAGA: BOOK TWO